


Whatever It Takes

by javajunkie



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Romance, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javajunkie/pseuds/javajunkie
Summary: Peggy and Steve reunite.(And everything that comes after.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, there are Endgame spoilers here. Do not keep reading if you have not seen!
> 
> Also, I have only seen Endgame once, so I apologize for the inconsistencies that are almost definitely in the below.

If Steve Rogers was being honest, the decision was made the moment he saw her through the window.  He hadn’t expected to see her, although he supposed part of him knew she would be there. Steve knew her future and it made sense that she would be there.  But still, he hadn’t expected to actually _see_ her. The only thing separating them a glass window and some fifty unspoken years.  Steve was struck with such yearning that it felt as physical as breathing, but he knew this wasn’t the time.  Tony and he had a mission, and Steve, always the dutiful soldier, would not risk that.  But as he turned around, he had the slightest thought that if he survived all of this – and that was a fairly large _if_ – he would find her again.  Whatever it took.

            After the battle, Steve was consumed with grief. While he knew Tony chose to sacrifice himself, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was another way.  One that didn’t end with Tony leaving all of them behind.  In the hours after his memorial, the team trading stories over food and beer, Pepper walked over to Steve and gently touched his arm.

            “Can you come with me?”

            Steve nodded, following Pepper up the stairs and into Tony’s study.  She closed the door and then said, “I was looking through Tony’s things this morning and I found something.  It turns out he left you a message, too.”

            Steve swallowed hard.  “He did?”

            “I thought you might want to watch it alone.”

            Steve nodded.  “Thank you.  Unless you want to be here.”

            Pepper shook her head and smiled sadly. “Whatever he needs to say is between you two.  I’ll be downstairs.”

            She walked out of the room and Steve played the message, still feeling the jolt of surprise when the apparition of Tony Stark appeared in front of him.

            “Hey there, Cap.  If you’re watching this, that means I didn’t make it.  But, it also means you did.  Which brings me to the point of this message.  For as long as I’ve known you, I’ve been telling you to get a life.  If I learned anything, it’s that all of this – what we do, or _did,_ I guess – it has to mean something.  You lived for a reason.  Make it count.  Oh, and, you probably already know this, but if you return the space stone, there are more Hank Pym particles just sitting there.  Waiting to be used.”  Tony flashed his trademark smirk.  “Just a thought.”

            The image disappeared and Steve sat motionless, Tony’s words ringing in his ears.  He thought then of Peggy through that window.  Her anguished voice on the intercom some twenty years earlier, begging him to consider other options, and then the melancholy acceptance when she saw there was no other choice.  All those years ago, he never could have dreamed that there was a way back.

            He walked downstairs and exchanged a glance with Pepper.  He could tell that she was curious as to what her late husband had to say to him, and he said, “He told me to get a life.”

            Pepper laughed, the sound unexpected in the somber setting, and she wiped at a sudden onslaught of tears as she said, “Why am I not surprised?”

            The next day, Steve prepared to return the stones to their rightful places.  He said his goodbyes, too nervous to reveal his true intentions out of fear that he would back out.  Maybe he would come back, after all.  But when he exchanged his last words with Bucky, his friend voiced what he couldn’t.  

            The journey to place all the stones took longer than expected, but then he was returning the space stone and gathering up enough of the Pym particles for what he hoped would be his final trip.  He aimed for 1945 but after locating a newspaper, he saw that he overshot by a few years.

After acquiring appropriate clothing, Steve sought out to find her, realizing as he walked the busy New York streets that he had no idea where she was or the slightest idea of how to find her.  He figured he could start with the Strategic Scientific Reserve, but where were they located?  As he tried to catch an address, Steve found himself nostalgic for the GPS capabilities of his past-future.   Steve turned around, trying to gain his bearings when he saw her. 

She looked practically the same as the last time he saw her.  She held herself with the same authority, back straight and shoulders squared.  He used to think that she always looked primed for battle, even when he had seen her in that red dress.  She was stopped on a corner, waiting out a stop light with her hands dug deep into the pockets of her dark green jacket. 

Despite finding the purpose of his time travel, Steve was gripped with a sudden and suffocating fear.  How could he possibly explain how he was back and everything that had happened?  It wasn’t exactly something that could be summarized in a few sentences.  He needed time to think.  To strategize.  He turned quickly, seemingly having none of his super soldier senses as he careened messily into an older woman.  Her purse dropped to the ground, contents spilling out onto the sidewalk.

“I am so sorry,” Steve said, crouching down to help her.

“You should watch where you’re going, young man!”

“Yes, absolutely.  Again, I’m very sorry.”

“Here’s your lipstick,” another voice said. Feminine.  British.  Unmistakably her.  Steve kept his gaze down.  “It rolled out toward the street.”

The old woman took the lipstick from her and tucked it away in her purse.

“Thank you, dear.  I would have been very upset if I lost that.  They discontinued the color.”

“Well, then I’m glad I was here to help.”

Steve was still crouched down, picking up the last of the coins, when he felt her gaze on his back.  He slowly stood up and held out the coins to the older woman.  She took them from him and gave him one more smart look before walking away.  Steve took a deep breath before turning to face her.  She recognized him immediately, although he sensed the hesitance in her face.  He couldn’t blame her exactly.  For all intents and purposes, he should be at the bottom of the ocean.

“Peggy.”

“Who are you?” she asked slowly, defensively.  He could see various emotions flicker over her face as she stared at him.

“You know who I am.”

She still didn’t look convinced, although he noticed that her hands were shaking.  He stepped toward her and said, “It’s me, Peggy.  I swear, it’s me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She needed proof, and he said, “The last time we talked. On the radio.  We were going to go dancing.  I said I’d have the band play something slow.”  He took another step toward her.  “And I was afraid that I didn’t know how to dance.  Do you remember that?”

She nodded slowly and he took another step forward. “And you said that-“

“I’d teach you,” she finished, her careful hold on herself slipping slightly.  She was still fighting the truth, unwilling, or maybe unable, to let herself believe. “Is it really you?”

“Yes.”

“How…”

He let out a shaky breath.  “That is a more complicated question than you know.”

“But you’re really you?  And you’re okay?”

He nodded and she closed the distance between them, hesitantly bracing her hands on his arms.  He instinctively mirrored her movement, his hands lightly gripping her waist. They made an intimate tableau for those walking by, garnering a few looks, but they didn’t care.  For a moment, Steve forgot about all the complications that he would necessarily need to explain.  It was only her and the impossibility of them being here again, back where his heart had never truly left.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Peggy said.

“Me too.”

While she didn’t know it, he lost her, too.  He still remembered the ache in his chest as he braced her coffin on his shoulder, steeling himself for a future without her. The memory brought him squarely back to the reason for their unlikely reunion and Peggy watched his expression change.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” 

* * *

            They sat in her living room, Steve finishing taking her through the saga of his last few years.  When he was finished he felt physically drained and not a small amount nervous as he waited for her reaction.  A tea kettle heated on the stove behind them.

“You’re here from the future?”  Peggy asked incredulously.  It all seemed ridiculous, but only a few years ago they were fighting a man with a skull for a face, so her barometer for ridiculous had been recalibrated. 

            “I know it’s hard to believe, but-”

            “No, I believe you,” she interrupted.  She smiled sadly and said, “I can see the years on your face.”  Peggy was silent for a moment before she asked, “Why did you come back here?”

            He could tell from her tone that she knew. They both knew.  Without hesitation he said, “Well, I had a date.”

            She let out a shaky breath and said, “You’re a bit late, aren’t you?”

            “Yeah, sorry about that.”

            Peggy reached over and took his hand in hers, grasping it tightly.  She looked on the verge of tears and Steve wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms.  They both had waited so long, but there was still more to discuss.  Frankly, it was the part that worried him the most.  He knew from the future that she had a life ahead of her where she was happy.  A life with a husband, children and grandchildren.  As much as he wanted her to spend her life with him, she deserved to know what she would be giving up before they made any decision.

            “There’s one last thing you need to know,” Steve said. 

            “You’ve already told me you’re from the future. What more could there be?”

            He took a deep breath before saying, “Your future.”

            The tea kettle whistled loudly, making both of them jump.  Peggy went to stand and Steve said, “No, I’ll get it.”

            Steve was going to offer her a cup of tea, but didn’t know if his hands would be steady enough to pour.  Frankly, Peggy didn’t want tea in that moment, either. The way he said her future made her stomach drop and she expected the worst when he settled next to her again. He struggled to start speaking and Peggy nervously asked, “Is it really that bad?”

            “No,” he said quickly.  “It’s not bad at all.  You’re happy in the future.  You get married and you have children and grandchildren.”

            “That sounds nice,” she said.  “Why do you look so nervous then?”

            “Your future doesn’t include me.  At least not until much later.  I came here because after they took me out of the ice, all I could think about was you and what we could have had.  I still think about it.  But, if we do this, it could impact your future.  You may never meet your husband.”

            In that moment, Peggy had never loved him more.  He travelled across time to find her, and yet was still nervous that she would tell him no. If only he knew of all the nights she fell asleep dreaming of him.  All the places she could no longer go because they reminded her too much of their time together. She laid her hand against his face and murmured, “Something tells me that if I didn’t lose you, I never would have needed to.”

            “Peggy-“

            She leaned forward and kissed him.  “I have spent the last three years wishing I could see you.  I’m not going to lose you again.”

            Steve was impossibly happy and it felt almost like a betrayal after everything he went through.  But then he remembered Tony’s last words to him.  Steve spotted a record player resting on a table at the side of the room and asked, “Does that record player work?”

            “Yes, I believe so.”

            “Perfect.”

            He stood up and walked over, remarking, “Let’s see if I remember how to use one of these.”

            Peggy followed him and said, “Something tells me you’ll do just fine.”

            Steve flipped through her records until he found one he liked and then he put it on the platter, placing the tone arm down on the outermost ridge.  The song started playing and Peggy playfully remarked, “Well done, darling.”

            He turned around and held out his hand.  “May I have this dance?”

            “Yes,” she said, taking his hand.  “Yes, you may.”

            He pulled her close and she pressed her head against his chest, her arm sliding around his waist.  They didn’t dance so much as sway, their bodies moving languidly to the music.  Steve felt a stillness in him that he hadn’t known before and when he tried to put it into words, Peggy said, “I feel it, too.  I think it means we’re finally where we belong.”

            She was right, but to Steve it was more than that. He was finally home.

 

_Kiss me once, then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It’s been a long, long time_

_Haven’t felt like this, my dear_


	2. Chapter 2

             Peggy stood in her bedroom, her breath quickening despite her best efforts to remain calm.  But she couldn’t help it.  Or rather, she couldn’t help herself.  Steve Rogers stood behind her, carefully unhooking the top of her dress.  His fingertips brushed the nape of her neck as he took a hold of the zipper and pulled it all the way down.  He did it slowly, the edge of his thumb running along her spine the entire way.  She shivered when he pushed one side of her dress over her shoulder and he placed a soft kiss on her skin in the fabric’s wake.

            “You are much too good at this,” she murmured, looking back at him with a grin.

            He turned her around, pressing open mouthed kisses to her neck and collarbone as he eased the dress down her waist and then over her hips. She helped him at the end, rather unceremoniously pushing the dress the rest of the way down and stepping out of it. She was left in her bra and panties, and wasted no time getting Steve to a similar state of undress.  After all, it seemed patently unfair that she should be half naked and he was not.  She remembered all too well what was underneath that button up and slacks. 

            Peggy pulled his head down to hers, kissing him soundly as she walked backwards toward the bed.  When the back of her knees hit the mattress she sat down, flashing Steve a coy grin before she scooted back and reached out for him. Steve did not need to be told twice and he followed, his hand skimming along her curves as he moved across her body. When he reached her chest, he stopped and Peggy glanced down, a glib remark about him being a typical man on her tongue, but then she saw what stopped him.  It wasn’t her chest so much as what was directly beneath it.

            “How did this happen?” he asked, taking his weight off of her and leaning on his side as he gently ran his finger along the scar.

            “Does it matter?” she asked.  There were so many things that she’d rather be doing than discussing her battle wounds.  He certainly had enough of his own.

            He looked up at her and said, “Yes.  It does to me.”   

            Peggy frowned and said, “If you must know, I was impaled.”

            Steve stared at her.  “I’m sorry, did you say you were _impaled_?”

            “It’s really nothing to get all excited about.”

            “Impaling isn’t exactly a normal occurrence.”

            “It’s simply a work-related injury,” she returned reasonably. “Like burning your hand on the office coffee machine.”

            “Those are not remotely similar,” he said.

            “Steve, do you really think this is the time to be discussing all of this?”

            “Why not now?” he challenged lightly.

            Peggy raised her eyebrows and returned, “I can think of a few reasons.”

“How did it happen?”

            Sensing that Steve wouldn’t let this go without the full story, Peggy sighed and turned on her side toward him. 

            “It was actually an accident.  Sometime last year.  Long story short, a fight ended badly, and I ended up falling onto a pile of cinderblocks and one particularly cheeky rebar.  Luckily, it bypassed any vital organs.”

            She rolled over onto her back and Steve leaned down and pressed a kiss against the scar.  She smiled down at him, thinking to herself that he was still unapologetically cheesy and she still unapologetically loved it.  To her delight, he moved up her body, his weight on his forearms, and that was when she saw it.  A small black “A” tattooed on his hip bone.  She braced her hands on his chest and took a second look before asking, “What is that on your hipbone?”

            Steve looked down and immediately flushed red.

            “Oh, it’s, uh, nothing.”

            She grinned wide and asked, “Steve Rogers, do you have a tattoo?  I never would have dreamed.  Now it’s your story time.”

            Steve turned on his side and settled next to her. “I promise you it’s not that good of a story.  Nat and I-“ he stopped suddenly, his eyes going flat and dark.  

Peggy took a moment before telling him, “I know you had a life there, Steve.  You don’t need to hide that from me.”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” he said immediately.  “Nat was a friend.  A good friend, but we lost her.”

“Oh Steve,” she breathed out, placing her hand on his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, but anyway, she was always telling me to live a little.  Her and Tony, that was their favorite thing to tell me.  So, one night we went out to this dive bar and – remember how the super soldier serum meant I couldn’t get drunk?”  Peggy nodded.  “Well, that night we disproved that theory.  Somehow we ended up at a tattoo parlor and we each got an A.” 

“A for what?” Peggy asked.

Steve rolled his eyes a bit and said, “For Avengers.”

Peggy tried not to laugh, and she was nearly successful, except for the snort.  Steve went to argue, but when he saw the look on her face he couldn’t help but laugh, and then they were both laughing, tears streaming down their faces and cheeks hurting. Afterwards she rested her cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow.

“I really am sorry about your friend,” she said.

“Thank you.”

She looked up at him and said, “If you want to talk about it, we can.”

Steve took a deep breath, but then shook his head.  “That’s a story for another time.”

“Okay then.”

For all the heat that coursed through Peggy earlier, she found herself content to just lay beside him, his fingers dancing lazily against her side.  She focused on his heart beat, the steady rhythm as comforting to her as any lullaby. 

“I love you, Steve.”

It wasn't the first time she said it, but it was new enough that it still made her pulse quicken.

He pressed a kiss against the side of her head.  “I love you, too.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Steve wasn’t sleeping.  He fell asleep fine, but each night he was jolted awake in the dark room, staring up at an indiscernible ceiling as he tried to steady his breathing.  The dream was always the same.  It was him and Bucky, walking down the streets of Brooklyn before the war.  Their conversation changed depending on the night, but it always ended the same.  Each time, Steve saw the car coming, Bucky distracted and talking.  He knew he should say something.  Warn him. Push him out of the way.  _Anything_.  But, he never did. 

            Steve woke suddenly, his shirt sticking to his sweat slick back as he breathed heavily, his heart beating angrily beneath his chest.  He carefully sat up, not wanting to wake Peggy, and swung his legs over the bed.  He leaned forward and raked his hand through his hair.  He couldn’t shake the image from his dream.  The feelings of guilt that he could have saved his best friend, but did nothing.

            The bed shifted behind him and then he felt a small hand on his shoulder.

            “Steve, are you alright?”

            He reached up and covered her hand with his. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

            Peggy scooted over to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind and resting her chin on his shoulder.  “Are you sure?  This is the third night I’ve found you like this.  What’s going on?”

            “I’m just having some trouble sleeping.”

            “Yes, I gathered that,” she said.  She waited for him to say more, and when he didn’t she tentatively said, “You know, when people have trouble sleeping it’s usually because something’s bothering them.  What’s bothering you?”

            “I should be happy.  After all these years, I found my way back to you.  And we are happy.”

            “I’d agree with that,” she said softly.  “But something tells me this isn’t about us.”

            Steve was quiet for a long moment, and then said, “Bucky didn’t die.”

            “What?”

“He survived the fall from the train.  Soviet patrols found him and sold him to HYDRA, where they performed experiments on him and turned him into an assassin.”

            As he spoke Peggy moved to sit next to him, her eyes widening as he explained the rest of what happened, all the way to finding him again in modern day New York and his deprogramming in Wakanda.  He left out that Howard bit, hoping that Peggy could have a less biased view of this than him.  Because he needed one clear head, where his decidedly was not. He couldn’t prevent every known catastrophe to come, and it became a dangerous game when one began to pick and choose.

            “You want to find him,” Peggy said when he finished.

            Steve nodded, looking away from her.  He felt guilty for bringing the past into their future, and when he told her as much she grasped his hand in hers and said, “Don’t start that.  Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t bring this up sooner.”

            “I don’t know what effects saving him will have here.  Sometimes I think that I messed with our worlds enough by coming back, but knowing that he’s out there…”

            Peggy reached over him to the nightstand and pulled out the drawer, grabbing a pad of paper and pen.  She flipped the notepad open to a blank page and said, “Tell me everything you know about where he’s being held.  I’ll see if we have any information at the SSR.”

            “I know exactly where he is,” Steve said. “He’s housed in a high security laboratory in Moscow.”

            He spent hours poring over the Winter Soldier’s file when he first crossed paths with him and he had practically memorized the contents. 

            “Well then, do we have a plan?”

            Steve rubbed at the back of his neck, his muscles tight from tension, and said, “We’d need a plane.”

            “Then I guess it’s lucky we know one of the most accomplished civilian pilots.”

 

* * *

 

That morning, Peggy and Steve made their way to Stark Industries.  Peggy whisked them through security, no doubt having frequented the towering skyscraper. The secretary up front knew her by name, and as they walked past her toward the laboratory, Peggy told him, “In case you are thinking it, no, Howard and I did not resort to fondue while you were gone.”

            Steve laughed, remembering their conversation from all those years ago.

            “Good to know.”

            “He’s actually met a lovely girl.  Maria.”

            Steve recognized her as Tony’s mother and said, “She sounds great.”

            “I hope he doesn’t do something stupid and muck it up.  I can actually hold a conversation with her.  That’s more than I can say for most of the girls he’s brought around.” 

            “Something tells me he’ll make it work.”

            They stopped in front of the laboratory. There was a locked door with an electronic keypad next to it.  Peggy typed in a code and the door unlocked.  Steve followed her into the lab and spotted Howard in the back.  He was bent over, examining something with a microscope. 

            “Howard?”

            “Hold on.  I’m just finishing this up.”

            “I have someone here to see you.”

            “Yeah yeah, I just…dammit!  I thought I had it and then – “ He stopped suddenly when he turned around and saw Steve. 

            “Hello Howard,” Steve said.

            “Holy shit.  Is…is it really you?”  He looked at Peggy.  “Is it really him?”  
            Peggy nodded.  “We need your help.”

            “Of course, you do,” Howard said.  He repeated himself and then strode over to Steve, giving him a tight hug.  “You really gave us all a scare there, buddy.  Taking a nose-dive into the Arctic like that.”

            Steve and Peggy exchanged a glance.  “About that…”

            Steve made quick work of the whole back-from-the-future bit, watching Howard grow whiter and whiter.  By the end, Howard had scooted all the way back to the counter, his back braced against the sturdy surface. 

            “You realize how crazy all of that sounds, right?”

            “I know,” Steve said.  “And, I get it if you don’t believe me, but –“

            “Hold on, I never said I didn’t believe you,” Howard said.  “It’s crazy, but what about the last few years hasn’t been crazy?  So, what do you two need?”

            Steve’s shoulders slackened with relief.  “We were hoping we could catch a ride on your airplane.”

            “You’re lucky the damn government didn’t seize that after the war.  They took about everything else.  But sure, I can give you a ride.  How far are we going?”

            “Moscow.”

            Howard laughed, but then sobered when he saw that it wasn’t a joke.  “You’re serious?  Moscow?”

            “We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, Howard,” Peggy implored.

            “Alright, alright.  I’ll take you.”

            “And there was one more thing,” Steve said.  “Where we’re going, I’m going to need a suit of sorts. Obviously, I can’t go the Captain America route again, but-“

            “Say no more,” Howard said, his eyes wide with excitement.  “I have just the thing.”  He rushed around the counter and pressed a button, a panel on the wall popping out and sliding over to reveal a stealth black suit.  “It’s a new prototype with woven vibranium.  It’s still a bit in the testing stage, but I think it should get the job done.”

            Steve walked over to the suit, an odd thrill running through him, not unlike the first time he wielded his shield.

            “I think this’ll do just fine.”  He looked back at his friend and said, “You don’t know what this means to me.  Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome, Steve.”  There was a pause, and then Howard asked, “So, tell me, you’re really from the future?”

            “Yes, I am.”

            “I can’t help asking.”  Steve braced himself for the question.  “Do I ever figure out a way to make a car fly?”

 

* * *

 

            Later that afternoon, they boarded Howard’s plane and began the long flight overseas.  Steve was nervous, running through all the potential ways this could go wrong. Bucky could have been moved to another location.  He could be unconscious.  They could activate him and neither could come out alive.  Complicating matters further, if Steve failed, his friendly pilot, Howard Stark, would die some forty years later with his wife, leaving behind an orphaned Tony Stark who didn’t take it particularly well. 

            “I think I should go in with you,” Peggy said, pulling him from his dark thoughts.

            “What?”

            “You shouldn’t go in alone.  Especially since you don’t know what you’re walking into.”

            “No.  I don’t want you in there,” Steve said immediately.  “You should stay here with Howard.”

            “You can’t be serious,” she said incredulously. 

            “This is something I have to do alone, Peg.”

            “Don’t be so bone-headed.”

            “They are trained assassins, Peggy.  With super human strength.  I can’t have you in there.”

            “Are you saying I can’t handle it?” she returned defensively.

            “No, Peg-“

            Her eyes flashed and she snapped, “I am not some wallflower, Steve.  I am an SSR agent.  I have taken down my fair share of men who underestimate me, and-“

            “I’m not underestimating you,” he returned heatedly. “I’ve seen what these men and women can do, and I can’t have you in there and focus on getting Bucky back.  I’ll end up losing both of you.”

            “If I can cut in for a second,” Howard interjected with a slight clearing of his throat, breaking up the couple’s spat.  “Peggy, it sounds like you may be a bit of a distraction.”  Peggy shot him a glare and he said, “Just my two cents.”

            “Look, I know this is dangerous, but I’m choosing to do it.  You would be doing it for me.  And if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

            Peggy wanted to argue further, but she could see that Steve wouldn’t budge.  Grudgingly, she nodded and said, “Okay.  I’ll stay with Howard.  But, you need to promise me that you’ll come back.  I mean it, no funny business.  Losing you once was enough for this lifetime.”

            Steve grasped her hand tightly.  “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

            They arrived in Moscow early the next morning and landed the plane about half a mile away from the building.  Steve changed into his suit and gave Peggy a kiss.  She gripped his arm and said, “Be safe.”

            “I will,” he said.  “I’ll see you soon.”

            He set off in the direction of the laboratory and Peggy sat back down in her seat, already feeling anxious.  Howard looked back at her and said, “I’ll never understand your desire to be thrown into life threatening situations.  Most folks tend to avoid them at all costs.”

            “I hate just sitting around,” Peggy said.  “But, he was right.  I can hold my own, but I think the people in there are different. They’re like him.”

            “He’ll be alright, you know.  Just wait and see.  He’ll be back with that guy before you know it.”

            Peggy was moderately worried at the beginning, but she knew that Steve was more than capable of handling himself, which served to dull the worry somewhat.  An hour later, no such dulling was left, and what remained was panic.  She was just about to go off after him when she saw two figures approaching. 

            “They’re coming,” Peggy said, immediately going over to the window.  It was as she watched their approach that she caught movement to their left.  A man ran toward them, gun drawn and shot Bucky in the arm.  She could tell that Bucky was already injured, and the additional insult sent him staggering backwards.  Steve launched himself toward the man, taking him down to the ground.   The man had Steve pinned to the ground, struggling against’ Steve’s hand to level his gun down toward his head.

            “Stay here,” Peggy told Howard hurriedly.

            “Yes,” Howard said, watching the same events unfold outside the airplane.

            Peggy ran outside and raised her gun, taking only a moment to level the shot before pulling the trigger.  The man collapsed on top of Steve, who pried the gun out of his hands and tossed it to the side out of reach. 

            Steve grimaced as he pushed the man off of him.  Peggy quickly went to his side and helped him up. “Let’s get out of here before more of them show up, yes?”

            Steve nodded and then looked around worriedly for Bucky.

            “I’m fine,” Bucky said, although his arm was clearly bleeding.  He sized up Peggy and said, “That was a damn good shot.”

            “Thank you very much.”

            They all climbed into the plane and Howard wasted no time before getting them up in the air, but not before exchanging a brief hello with their new guest.

            “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky Barnes.”

            “You too, Howard.”


	4. Chapter 4

The dancehall was crowded, the two couples lucking out with the last table only a few feet away from the bar.  A month or so after Bucky’s rescue, he met a perky waitress at a diner they frequented, and the pair became inseparable.  Not long after, they started double dates.  A Friday night at The Stork Club was one of their favorites.  Peggy sat down at the table, catching Steve’s hand in hers as he leaned down and asked her if she wanted anything from the bar.

            “Yes, a side car, please.”

            “Coming right up.  You ready, Buck?”

            “Yeah.”  Bucky covered his date’s shoulder with his hand.  “Do you want your usual, Angie?”

            “Yes please.”

            “Alright, we’ll be back,” Bucky said.  “Don’t go ahead and meet other men while we’re gone, okay?”

            “Well, that depends on how long you take,” Peggy returned glibly.  

            Steve smirked and said, “Come on, Buck.  It looks like the line for the bar is thinning out.”

            As they walked away, Angie leaned in toward Peggy and said, “I love watching them walk away.  Don’t you?”

            Peggy followed the direction of her friend’s gaze and laughed.  “It _is_ a rather marvelous view.”

            Angie propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm.  “Sometimes I wonder how I ended up so lucky.”

            “Me too,” Peggy echoed.

            Angie made a scoffing noise and said, “Are you kidding me?”

            “What?”  Peggy asked in surprise.

            “You and Steve practically seem like you were built for each other.  I swear, the moment I first saw you two I went – that makes sense.  That makes _perfect_ sense.”

            Peggy smiled slightly.  “I assure you it wasn’t as easy as it all seems, but it certainly worked out in the end.”

            “I’d say so.”  Angie looked back at the bar and she made a face before she said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

            “What is it?”

            “Our boys have company.”

            Peggy glanced at the bar and saw that two women had sidled up to Steve and Bucky.  The latter handled his new guest well, making what Peggy could only assume was polite conversation as he deftly put distance between them, despite the woman’s attempts to step closer. 

Steve, on the other hand, was faring less well.  He always had been uncomfortable with female attention, and Peggy noticed with some amusement that it seemed he had not grown out of that.  He was clearly nervous, trying to extricate himself from the situation without being rude. She watched him take her drink from the bartender and then, to Peggy’s surprise, the woman plucked the drink from his hand and took a sip.  Beside her, Angie gasped.

“If you want to go over there and slap her, I’ll watch your purse.”

Peggy wasn’t much concerned by the display, although she didn’t particularly enjoy that she now would need to wait longer for her drink. Peggy half-expected Bucky to intervene on his friend’s behalf, but then Steve said something and both him and the woman looked over to her table. 

“Good boy,” Peggy said under her breath before giving them a bright smile and wiggling her fingers in a jaunty wave.

Angie snorted.  “She just went white as a sheet.  Serves her right.”

“You can’t blame the girl for trying,” Peggy returned lightly. “Although, I suppose I can blame her for taking my drink.”

The woman set off on a new conquest.  Frankly, not looking as chagrined as she probably should, all things considered, but Peggy didn’t dwell on it.  Steve and Bucky returned to their table, and as Steve sat next to her he said, “How much of that were you watching?”

“Enough to see that you are still horribly awkward around my gender,” she said. 

Bucky laughed uproariously and said, “It’s a wonder he ever worked up the courage to speak to you.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

            It was mid-June when Howard called Peggy and insisted that she and Steve attend a party he was throwing that weekend.  At the time, Peggy couldn’t understand his insistence.  Howard was always throwing parties, and Peggy was always making excuses to get out them, but Howard insisted and after the fourth round of begging and reassurance that she would not have to see someone pop out of a cake – that was surprisingly, or perhaps _not_ surprisingly, a common occurrence at Howard Stark parties – Peggy agreed. 

            And it was a good thing she did.  Immediately following the champagne toast, Howard slipped his arm around his girlfriend, Maria’s, waist and said, “Folks, we have a surprise for you.  Tonight, you aren’t just at a party.”  He beamed down at Maria.  “Do you want to do the honors?”

            Maria looked out at the crowd and grinned as she said, “You’re at our wedding.” 

            The crowd burst into excited chatter, and Howard explained that the ceremony would be happening in one hour, and everyone please enjoy the obligatory cocktail hour.  Peggy watched Howard work his way through the crowd before he stopped in front of her.

            “Now I see why you were so insistent that we be here,” Peggy said. 

            “I couldn’t get married without my best pals,” he said jovially.  “Can you believe it?  Me getting married?  I can hardly believe it.”

            If this was two years ago, Peggy would have bet everything on Howard being a bachelor for life.  But, then he met Maria and everything Peggy thought she knew about Howard changed.

            “You’re going to be very happy,” Peggy said warmly.

            “Yeah,” Howard echoed, glancing over at his soon to be wife.  “I’d be an idiot not to be.”

            After cocktails, the pair was married in a short, if not opulent, wedding ceremony on the back terrace of Howard’s mansion.  As they sealed their union with a kiss, fireworks erupted above them, blanketing the sky in cascading stars.  Steve wrapped his arm around Peggy’s waist and she leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder.

            Sometime later, Peggy congratulated Maria while her husband was off loudly talking to some work associates.  Peggy gave her a quick hug and then said, “It was very kind of you to give him this.”

            Maria smiled slightly.  “Was it that obvious?”

            “Just to me,” Peggy assured her, giving her arm a quick squeeze. 

            “You know this isn’t really my style, but I couldn’t say no to him.”  Maria looked over at her husband.  “Look at how happy he is.”

            “I think you are just as much a credit to that as the wedding.”

            “He makes me happy, too,” Maria returned wistfully. “I guess in the end, that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

            Peggy and Steve stayed late into the night, dancing and laughing until exhaustion crept in and made Peggy question whether her headache was from the champagne or lack of sleep.  They said their goodbyes and went home, Steve draping his suitcoat over her shoulders to shield her from the evening breeze when they walked up to her apartment.  Peggy climbed into bed still in her dress, too exhausted to change.

            “You’re going to regret that in the morning,” Steve said when he climbed into bed beside her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

            “We’ll let that be morning me’s problem.”

            Steve laughed.  “Okay.  Goodnight, Peg.”

            “Night, love.”

            Peggy fell into a dreamless sleep, but she supposed there was no reason to dream anymore.  She had already gotten everything that she dreamed about.  Peggy woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. She stretched her arms over her head, arching her back until she felt a delicious crack in her spine.

            Steve padded into the bedroom with a tray outfitted with a plate of eggs and bacon, fruit and a cup of coffee. 

            “Is that for me?” she asked.

            “Yes, it is.”

            Peggy sat up and he put the tray on her lap. She wrapped her hand around the mug of coffee and when he settled next to her in bed, she felt a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the coffee.  He plucked a piece of bacon off of her plate and took a bite.

            “We should get married,” Peggy said suddenly.

            Steve looked over at her, mid-chew, and after he swallowed he said, “Yeah?”

            “It seems like the next logical step.” she returned reasonably, although the frantic beating of her heart suggested that logic had little to do with it.  

            “You want to get married?”

            Peggy nodded.  “Besides, it strikes me as rather odd that, at this precise moment, Howard is in a more committed relationship than us.”

            Steve laughed.  “Well, when you put it that way…”

            Peggy covered his hand with hers and interlaced their fingers.  He picked up their hands and kissed hers tenderly.  She hadn’t thought it was possible to love someone more than she loved him all those years ago, but when he came back she found herself falling in love more deeply.  More completely.

            “I mean it.  I want to marry you, Steve Rogers.  Today.”

            Peggy didn’t know if she was taking all of this too fast.  All she knew was that after last night, she didn’t want to spend one more minute not fully committed.  Because, like Maria said, they made each other happy, and that was all that mattered.  

She read into his silence, and was about to tell him that she didn’t mean to rush things, they waited this long and she would wait however much longer he needed, when he leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers.  She laid her hand against his face, feeling the slight stubble under her fingertips. Kissing him always felt a bit like coming home.  Like she was adrift until his mouth found hers.  After a moment he pulled away, but he stayed close, his forehead pressed against hers.

“I want to marry you, too, Peg.”

“Then what are we waiting for?  Let’s go today.”

“Where would we go?”

Peggy thought for a moment, and then said, “City Hall.”

Steve’s face brightened, and she fought back a wide grin as he said, “We’ll need a witness.”

“I’d normally say Howard, but he should be halfway to his honeymoon by now.”

“I can call Bucky,” he said, already climbing out of bed and hurrying to the phone in the kitchen.  Peggy followed, grabbing a robe and pulling it over her dress as she walked out of her bedroom.  Steve already dialed by the time she reached him, and she listened anxiously as he said, “Bucky, it’s Steve.  I need you to do me a favor.”

“Yeah, what do you need?”

“Peggy and I are getting married and we need you to be our witness.”

“You guys are getting married?”

There was a high-pitched shriek on Bucky’s end, and Steve laughed before saying, “Angie can come, too.”

“I honestly don’t think she’d physically let me leave here without her now.  But, congratulations.  I’m really happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, Buck.  We really appreciate it.  So, we’ll probably be there at…” he looked at his watch, “…one ‘clock?”  He glanced at Peggy and she nodded.  “Yeah, on o’clock, can you make that work?”

“If it didn’t, I’d make it work.  Ang and I will see you guys at one.”

“See you at one.”

Steve hung up the phone and Peggy murmured, “We’re getting married in three hours.”

He looked over at her, and with a soft smile said, “I can’t wait.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Peggy didn’t have a white dress, but she did have the red one that she wore when they ran into each other at that bar all those years ago.  She always thought of that night as the start of their courtship, when the admiration shifted to something more.  They made their way straight to City Hall.  Excitement coursed through her, and she had so much that she wanted to say that she ended up saying nothing.  She didn’t need too, though, because she knew that whatever she was feeling, he was feeling too, and there was a comfort in that.

            Bucky and Angie beat them to City Hall by a few minutes, Angie launching herself at Peggy and hugging her tightly.  “Peg, you look beautiful!”

            “Yeah, you really do,” Bucky said.  He knocked his elbow against Steve and said, “You did well, buddy.”

            “Okay, as your self-appointed Maid of Honor, I am here to make sure that today goes off without a hitch,” Angie said crisply, Bucky smirking beside her.  “I checked out the competition here today.  There are three couples ahead of you, but one of them was already fighting, so I’m not convinced they make it all the way.”

            “We can wait a little,” Peggy assured her.

            “I also picked up some things for you.  James, where’d you put the bag?”

            “Oh sorry, here it is,” he said, handing her a brown paper bag. 

            Angie carefully pulled out a bouquet of blue and white flowers.  “This is your something blue and something new.  The ribbon around it is one of mine, so that’s your something borrowed. And…” she suddenly went pale, and said, “…I forgot the something old.”

            “It’s okay,” Peggy said.  “I’m sure the others will suffice.”

            “No, it’s bad luck to not have all four,” Angie said with wide eyes.  “Don’t you worry though, I’ll find you something old.  Hopefully that third couple holds out so I have enough time.”

            “I think I may have something,” Steve said.

            Peggy watched him reach into his jacket and pull out an old rusted compass.  She knew immediately what it was, and she felt a rather large lump form in her throat as she said, “I can’t believe you still have this.”

            “I always kept it close to my heart.”

 

* * *

 

            That afternoon, Steve and Peggy became husband and wife, their commitment to each other now legally binding. She found herself looking at him when they were at the apartment, still somewhat in wonder that out of all the women he’d encountered over his lifetime, he chose her.  He caught her looking and walked over, gently prying the magazine from her hands and pulling her up from the couch.

            “What are you doing?” she asked.

            “I want to dance with my wife.”

            “There’s no music,” she returned playfully.

            He pressed his cheek against hers and began to hum an indiscernible tune.  Peggy closed her eyes and murmured, “Ah yes, my favorite song.”

            Peggy didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but then he was kissing her and it felt as if every nerve-ending had sparked. They didn’t make it to the bedroom, instead putting the couch to good use.  Afterwards, Peggy rested her head on Steve’s chest and said, “If you were considering annulling our marriage at any point, we just mucked that up royally.”

            Steve laughed and his chest rumbled beneath her ear. “I guess that means you’re stuck with me.”

            “Yes, I guess so.”

           


	6. Chapter 6

 

            A few months after he returned, Steve started attending grief counseling.  He found the group listed in the newspaper, underneath an advertisement for Lucky Strike cigarettes.  The group met every Saturday at a church in Queens.  He had no real intention of attending the meetings, but then one Saturday afternoon Peggy went shopping with Angie and he was alone in the apartment. He always had problems with the silence. It gave him too much space to think and with that space he invariably thought of them.  Steve felt a familiar weight settle on his chest.  It wasn’t unlike when he first came out of the ice, and with that heaviness came the guilt.  He was the one who survived, so why couldn’t he get on with it?

            Steve remembered how much the grief counseling helped him before and he set out to Queens, figuring that maybe it he talked about it all, just once, he could move on.  The church was only a few blocks from the subway stop, an unassuming building with a cross at the top.  Steve walked in and asked a man mulling around at the front of the church if he knew where the grief counseling was held.  The man pointed to the back and said, “There’s a hallway back there. It’s one of those rooms.”

            “Thank you.”

            Steve walked through the church, his eyes lingering on a man and woman at one of the pews.  Their heads were bowed, mouths barely moving as they prayed quietly. Grasped in the woman’s hand was a rosary, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing against the beads as she prayed.  He entered the hallway and easily found the room from the steady buzz of chatter.  There were about seven people there, chatting over coffee and sweets. At the center of the room, there was a circle of chairs, and Steve’s shoulders slackened at the familiarity. Put the people in modern clothes, and he could have been back at his grief counseling sessions in 2019.

            A man was already seated, talking with a woman, and he looked up at Steve and said, “I see we have a new face.”

            Steve walked forward and shook the man’s hand. “I’m Steve.”

            “It’s nice to meet you, Steve.  I’m Daniel.  Take a seat, we were just about to get started.”

            Daniel ushered the others to the seats and then they started.  Daniel gestured for Steve to start, and he said, “Is it okay if I just listen first?” 

            “Of course, whatever you want.”

            There were all sorts of people at the meeting. One woman lost her husband to lung cancer.  Another woman was grieving a young son.  A few talked about the war, but their memories were sparse and guarded.  Steve suspected they were unwilling to open up too much out of fear that once they did, they would never be able to close that door again. 

            “What about you, Steve?”  Daniel asked once they all spoke.  “Is there anything you’d like to share with us?”

            Steve took a deep breath and then shook his head. 

            Daniel nodded, smiling encouragingly, and said, “Well, whenever you’re ready, we’ll be here.”

            Steve went home after the meeting with no intention of returning, but then Saturday came around and he found himself in the area for some errands, and figured that he could stop by.  The next three Saturdays, he made up errands in Queens, and by the fourth Saturday, he went directly to the church and for the first time, spoke.  He told them about the battle with Thanos in broad strokes, knowing that there was a war in recent enough memory that everyone would just think he was talking about that.  When he left, he felt lighter. 

That evening, he told Peggy over dinner, and she calmly returned, “I know.”

“You knew?”

She smiled softly and said, “I’m a spy, Steve.  Of course, I knew.”

            “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he said. 

            “Why didn’t you?” she asked.  There was no heat behind her words, but he could tell that she was disappointed that he hadn’t come to her earlier.

            “I guess I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t happy or something.”

            “Oh Steve, you can be happy and still miss people.”

            Steve nodded, looking down at his plate.

            “You know that you can always talk to me,” Peggy said softly.  “I know what it’s like to lose people, too.”

            “I know you do,” Steve said, thinking to himself that he was a large reason for that.

            “So, talk to me,” she said, reaching forward and grasping his hand with hers.  “Let me help you.”

            Steve shook his head and looked away, missing the way his wife’s face fell.  He squeezed her hand and said, “I’m okay, Peg.  I promise.”

            She nodded, trying to smile but not quite succeeding.  They continued their meal in silence, but the unsaid words pressed between them, forcing distance long after that evening.  Steve thought he was doing the right thing by shielding her from his past.  In one tense exchange of words, she accused him of thinking that she couldn’t handle it, but it wasn’t that.  Steve knew she could, but why should she have to?  These were his demons, not hers.

            Six days after the one year anniversary of the battle, Steve sat in the circle of chairs.  Throughout his time with the group, he’d seen people come and go. Some got better.  Some got worse.  Steve forced optimism, but it was wearing thin even to him.  He barely slept anymore, and Peggy had stopped asking him why.

            “Steve, what’s on your mind?” Daniel asked.

            “Six days ago, it was the anniversary of when I lost my friends,” Steve said.  “And I can’t help feeling guilty.  I’m the one who came home and I got more than I could have ever imagined.  But at what cost?  And I look at my wife, and I can see she knows something’s wrong, but I can’t tell her, and she’s hurt by that.  I hurt the one person I swore I never would.”

            “Why can’t you tell her?”

            Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  “I guess I’m embarrassed.  After the war, I spent so much time missing her and what we had, and now I’m finally here and I’m missing them and…” he trailed off before he said anything about the future.  “It’s like I can never be happy.  I guess I don’t want her to know that.”

            Daniel leaned forward and said, “It sounds like she already does.  There’s no reason you should have to go this alone, Steve, and you know that.  That’s why you’re here.  Talk to her.  Let her help you.”

            That afternoon, Steve returned home and found that Peggy was out.  He busied himself around the house, not wanting to slow down because if he did, he thought too much about the past and future, and how he had nearly let it destroy his present.  When Peggy came home she found him sitting at the kitchen table.

            “Hello Steve,” she said, putting her bag of groceries on the kitchen counter.  She began to empty them when Steve said, “Can you come over here?”

            “Let me just finish putting these away,” she said, unloading several cans of vegetables.  She looked over her shoulder and said, “You know, you can help.”

            Steve stood up and walked over to her, lightly taking a hold of her wrist as she reached into the bag again.

            “Can you please come sit with me?”

            “Okay,” she said hesitantly, following him to the table and watching as he sat back down.  She settled across from him, waiting as he worked himself up to speak.

            “Steve, are you okay?”

            “No,” he admitted.  “And you’ve known that for a while.”

            Peggy hesitated before she nodded slightly.

            “I thought I was doing the right thing shielding you from all of this.  But, all I did was hurt you, and I never wanted to do that, so I’m going tell you everything.”

            And, he did.  He started with Tony, watching her eyes widen when he said his last name. Howard and Maria had just announced they were pregnant last month.  Steve knew, without a doubt, that it was with Tony.

            “He was brilliant and unafraid to tell people,” Steve said, smiling sadly.  “He actually told people a lot. And he sacrificed himself so that we could live.”  Steve thought of their first battle in New York and added, “It actually wasn’t the first time he did that.”

            “He sounds like a remarkable man,” Peggy said.

            Steve nodded, his gaze trained on the kitchen table. “He was.  Don’t get me wrong, he could be stubborn and arrogant and, frankly, a real pain in the ass, but he was family.  We all were.  And without him, I wouldn’t be back here with you.”

            Steve took a deep breath and then said, “But before we lost Tony, we lost Nat.”

            For some reason, this one was harder for Steve to talk about.  At least with Tony he got to say goodbye.  He grieved.  With Natasha, there was too much left to do.  There was an entire war to get through before he had time to grieve.  And even then, he was coordinating with Lang and Dr. Pym to return the infinity stones, and the actual returning of the stones.  Then, his reunion with Peggy and stubbornly pushing any thoughts of his past life aside.  As he spoke, Steve realized that he hadn’t in fact grieved Natasha, at all.

            He didn’t realize that he had grown silent until he heard Peggy speak.  He followed the sound of her voice and found her crouched beside him, her hands tightly grasping his.  Her eyes brimmed with tears, but her voice was strong when she said, “I am so sorry, love.”

            He reached for her instinctively, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he gave in to the grief that haunted him since he returned.  All the while Peggy ran a soothing hand along his spine, whispering that everything would be okay.  He would be okay.  When he calmed down, she pulled away and framed his face with her hands.  His face was flushed, eyes bloodshot and swollen.

            “We are going to get through this,” she said resolutely. 

            “I’m sorry that I kept all of this from you.”

            “You don’t need to apologize for anything,” she said.  “You did the best you could.”

            Steve leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers.  “I love you, Peg.  You have no idea how much.”

            She let out a shaky breath, her eyes squeezed shut, and returned, “I think I do.”

            They stayed that way for a long while, taking comfort in each other’s presence, and then Steve pulled away, taking a steadying breath before he said, “Come on, I’ll help you finish putting away the groceries.”

            “Are you sure?  They can wait,” she said.

            Steve reached forward and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “No, I’m ready.”

            “Okay.”

            They put the groceries away in a comfortable silence, both stealing glances at each other as they maneuvered over to the pantry, cabinets and icebox.  They settled on the couch after, Peggy leaning against him with her feet curled up under her.  She thought of Howard and Maria’s announcement, and asked, “Do you think it’s Tony?”

            Steve nodded.  “I do.”

            She grew quiet and Steve said, “It may not happen in this timeline.”

            “Tell me, did he have a good life?”

            Steve smiled softly, thinking of Pepper, Morgan and the man who loved them 3,000. “Yeah, he did.”


	7. Chapter 7

It was Peggy’s idea to bring out the bourbon.  Howard bought it for her in the dark days after the war, when she still woke up and had to remind herself that what happened to Steve wasn’t all a horrible dream, and Howard told her, “You may not have much to celebrate now but you will one day.”

            Peggy put it in the back of the cupboard and she forgot about it behind the canned vegetables and boxes of flour.  She went on to serve with the SSR.  She spent a summer in Los Angeles, falling into something close to love, but not quite.  And then, one day she was walking down the street on her way to the bakery and she saw an older woman struggling to gather her belongings from a dropped purse, and crouched beside her a man Peggy thought she would never see again.  All the while, Howard’s words rang in her ears.  Finally.  She had reason to celebrate.

            Of course, she didn’t pull out the bourbon that night or even that month.  The celebratory event befitting the bourbon ended up being an average Tuesday evening after an equally average dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes.  She and Steve were talking about Howard and his latest scientific drama when she remembered the bottle in the back of the cupboard.

            “Howard said I’d have reason to celebrate one day,” she said, screwing the cap off the bottle.  “Something tells me he had something grander in mind.”

            “We’re celebrating life,” Steve said.  “What could be grander than that?”

            “Is that a rhetorical question?” she asked leadingly with a goading grin, pouring him two fingers.  He only smirked in response, taking the glass from her.  Peggy poured herself a glass and raised it as she said with feigned solemnity, “To life.”

            “To life.”

            They clinked glasses and Peggy took a sip. The smooth liquor slid down her throat and burned in just the right way.  Steve examined the amber liquid appreciatively and said, “This is really good.  Although, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised considering its source.”

            Peggy laughed.  “Yes, Howard always did know his liquor.  Let’s go finish this in the living room.”

            “Sure,” he said, heading toward the living room. He hesitated for a moment and then said, “Bring that bottle with you.”  

             Peggy’s eyes brightened.  “Of course, darling.”

            Two hours later, half the bottle was gone and Peggy was properly drunk.  Somewhere around her third glass she pulled off her earrings and tried to toss them on the coffee table.  When one missed, she followed it onto the floor and then reached up for Steve, pulling him down next to her.   The floor seemed as good a place as any to sit and they stayed there, Peggy’s head resting on his shoulder as they talked. 

            “Tell me something about you that I don’t know,” Peggy said.

            “Something you don’t know?”

            Peggy nodded.  “There has to be something.  There are things about me that you don’t know.”

            “Yeah?  Like what?”

            Peggy took a sip out of the bottle, her glass long forgotten, and said, “I was engaged before you.”

            Steve hadn’t expected that, and he said, “Wait, really?”

            “Yes, it was a long time ago.  His name was Fred.”

            “What happened?” Steve asked.

            “A lot of things,” Peggy said.  “But, it was all for the best.  If I married him I never would have gone to war and met you. Can you imagine that?”

            “No, I can’t.”   

            “So, what about you?  There must be something.”  She twisted around and looked up at him, suddenly getting an idea.  “Did you meet anyone in the future?”

            Steve shrugged and said, “Not really, I was pretty busy trying to keep the world from falling apart.  That doesn’t leave much time for dating.”

            Peggy narrowed her eyes, catching the whiff of a lie, and said, “I don’t believe you.”

            “What?”

            “You were there for seven years, Steve.  Are you seriously telling me that you didn’t go on a single date?”  The top of his ears burned red and Peggy poked his chest triumphantly.  “I knew it!  Tell me.”

            “Peg, do we really have to do this?”

            Peggy gave him a challenging look and said, “I showed you mine, darling.  It’s only fair that you show me yours.”

            “For the record, you showed yours unprompted.”

            “Mr. Rogers-“

            “Mrs. Rogers,” he interrupted, drawing a smile from his wife.  She leaned forward and kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair as she drew him closer.  After a moment, she pulled away and said, “You really aren’t going to tell me?”

            Steve groaned.  “Peggy.”

            “That’s fine, you don’t have to tell me.”  She picked up the bottle of bourbon, examining the damage they had done, and said, “Besides, I doubt I’ll remember asking in the morning.”

            Steve looped his fingers around her wrist, running his thumb along her pulse.  “There was only one woman I saw with any regularity.  She knew me better than anyone there and I visited her once a week until it ended.”  He reached forward and tenderly cradled her face in his hand.  “And somehow, after I was lucky enough to find her not once, but twice, I found her again.”

            Steve made efforts to shield Peggy from her future, so this was something he hadn’t told her before.  She did the math in her head, the alcohol making her mind work frustratingly slow.  “I must have been very old.”

            Steve smiled slightly and nodded.  “But, you were you.  And when everything had changed, that was enough.”

            “You visited me?”

            Steve nodded again.  “You were in a nursing home.  Everyone actually thought I was your grandson.”

            Peggy’s eyes went wide.  “Well, that’s only mildly horrifying.”

            Steve laughed.  “Anyway, you helped me a lot.  And, yes, there were a few others, but my heart was always here.  Every minute of every day.”

            Peggy looked up at him, face soft and lips slightly parted, and as Steve leaned in to kiss her she said, “A few others?”

            Steve laughed humorlessly. “Seriously?”

            “You are the one who divulged that, not me. You had to have known that I, of all people, would follow up on it.”

            Steve sighed.  “Fine, it was two.  The first was a girl that Nat set me up with.  It didn’t last more than a month.  And the second…was your future niece, Sharon Carter.”

            Peggy blinked rapidly.  “How drunk am I right now?”

           “Although, technically that was only one kiss,” Steve added.

            “Technically _we_ only had one kiss,” Peggy said loudly.

            “That was different.”

            “I don’t think I want to know any more about your future dating life, thank you very much.”

            “To be fair, I did kind of warn you.”

            “Hmm,” she looked around her and said, “I need that bourbon again.”


	8. Chapter 8

When Steve Rogers returned to his past (or technically, his future, based on very confusing time travel logic) he hadn’t really thought beyond reuniting with Peggy.  That wasn’t to say it was a rash decision.  He just thought that he would figure everything else out as he went along. A few weeks into staying home, while Peggy went to work at the SSR, Steve decided he needed to find himself a day job.  The obvious solution would have been to see if he could find a position at the SSR, but after nearly a decade of fighting, he wanted something simpler.  Peggy suggested teaching and while he initially balked at the suggestion – how was he qualified to teach? – he eventually warmed to the idea and found a position teaching history to sixth graders.  He enjoyed the work and noticed that many of the students were stopping in his classroom during lunch or after school to talk with him and ask advice.  When he told Peggy how rewarding it all was, she smiled knowingly and said, “You can still change lives without being Captain America.”

            Peggy didn’t share much about her SSR work with him. For starters, much of her work was confidential, but he also knew that she was trying to shield him from the danger that she necessarily put herself in.  He only saw the aftermath.  The darkened bruise not quite covered with concealer.   A slight limp when she brought over coffee at breakfast.  He knew better than to ask, because the answer would always be the same.  It was part of the job, and he knew that as much as she did. 

            One morning over breakfast she said, “The SSR office in California asked me to go over there and consult on a case.”

            It wasn’t the first time she had travelled for work, but it was the first time she travelled to California.  He knew who was in California, and while he wasn’t jealous, he did wonder why Peggy was specifically requested.

            “It shouldn’t be more than a few days,” Peggy said. “I was hoping maybe you could join me?”

            “I’d love to, Peg, but my kids have finals next week.  I really should be here.”

            “Of course,” Peggy said.

            “When are you leaving?”

            “This afternoon.”

            “That soon?”  Steve asked.  It seemed that this breakfast would be the last time he saw his wife for several days. If he knew, he would have planned something more exciting than toast and jam.

            She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers.  “I’m afraid it’s a situation where time is of the essence.”

            “Okay.”  He hesitated and then added, “I know you hate it when I say this, but please-“

            “I will,” she interrupted softly, squeezing his hand.  “I’ll be back soon, Steve.   I promise.”

            Peggy left that afternoon and Steve returned to an empty house, distracting himself with laundry and the latest Benny Goodman show. He went to bed early, and when he woke up he made himself scrambled eggs and toast, reading a rather odd article on bee keeping in that morning’s paper, when there was a knock on his door.  He wiped his mouth with a napkin and walked over to the door to find Howard Stark standing on the other side.

            “Howard?”

            “Can I come in?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Steve said, stepping to the side. He looked down at his watch and said, “I only have about twenty minutes before I need to leave for work, though.”  He looked up at Howard and noticed the stricken look on his face.  “Is everything okay?  Did something happen with Maria?”

            “It’s Peggy.”  Steve felt a jolt go through him.  “She was hurt pretty badly in California, and-“

            “How do you know this?”  Steve asked, hoping it was a mistake.  It could all surely be a mistake.

            “Chief Sousa called me.  Look, I don’t know what Peggy’s told you about why she was there, but it’s serious stuff, Steve.  It’s real serious and a lot of people could get hurt if we don’t do something about it.”

            Steve nodded, jaw tense.  “Just tell me what you need and I’ll do what I can.”

            Howard let out a shaky breath and then said, “We need Captain America.”

 

* * *

 

            Howard and Steve took one of his planes out to California, and during the ride Howard explained why Peggy was in California.  A few years ago, a man broke into his laboratory and stole many of his experiments, including a gas that was designed to keep soldiers alert, but in practice created unbridled aggression. Ultimately, Howard ended up in a psychosis and flying his plane over New York, almost gassing the entire city into a fatal frenzy.

            “Peggy talked me out of it, thank God.  And we thought the government destroyed all of it. But, last month there started being reports of similar scenes.  Total and complete slaughters without any rhyme or reason.”

            “That’s why Sousa asked for Peggy,” Steve said.  “He wanted the investigation to be off the books.”

            Howard nodded.  “He needed someone that he trusted.  We don’t know how deep the corruption goes, but all of that gas should have been destroyed.  It’s an inside job.  It has to be.”

            “What did Peggy find?”

            “A group called The Secret Empire has it and we’re pretty sure they’re trying to replicate the formula.”

            “Do you think they can?”

            Howard frowned.  “That thing took me years to create, but they have the benefit of a sample. It may take them a while, but yes, I think they could.”

            Steve felt a familiar energy crackle through him. “How much longer until we’re there?”

 

* * *

           

            When they landed in California, Howard and Steve headed directly to the hospital.  Chief Daniel Sousa met them in the lobby and Howard said, “This is Peggy’s husband, Steve.”

            “Nice to meet you,” Sousa said quickly.  He led them down a corridor and said in a low voice, “We had her admitted under the name Suzie Milton, in case anyone comes looking for her.”

            “Is it even safe for her to be in a hospital?” Howard asked.

            “We had no choice.  She needed surgery.”

            Steve’s curled his hands into tight fists and said, “Is she awake?”

            Sousa looked over at Steve and he paused for a moment before he said, “Not yet.  But the doctors say that she should soon.”

            They arrived at her room and Steve walked in first, relief flooding his chest at the sight of her.  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, staying close as he whispered, “I’m here, Peggy.”

            Daniel closed the door and he studied Steve for a moment before he said, “You’re him, aren’t you?”

            Steve looked back at him.  “Who?”

            “Captain America.  I recognized your voice.  I was in one of units that you and the Howling Commandos liberated from Hydra.”

            “I just go by Steve now.”

            Sousa nodded slowly and then said, “I’m guessing you didn’t just come here as a concerned spouse.”

            Steve shook his head.  “We need to finish this.”

Sousa nodded soberly, an understanding passing between the two men.

“Peggy was able to plant a tracker before she was shot.  I’ve been tracking the signal and it doesn’t look like they’re moving anything.  I think our best chance is to strike when they’re on the move.  They’ll be less protected.”

            “Where are they now?”  Steve asked.

            “At a warehouse about thirty miles from here.”

            “I’ll head there now,” Steve said, turning on his heel.  Sousa stopped him, saying, “We can’t just barge in.  They’ll expect that we go back after what happened to Peggy.  They’ll be waiting for us.”

            “Good.  Hopefully that means I can meet the man who shot my wife.”

            “We need to be smart about this,” Sousa implored. 

            “They could find the tracker by the time they move the gas,” Steve said.  “Peggy is in a hospital bed because of this.  I’m not chancing it slipping through our fingers!”

            “I don’t want that either,” Sousa returned sharply.  “But we can’t just barge in without thinking.  We _need_ a plan.”

            “Would you two pipe down?”  Peggy said weakly behind them.  “Someone was shot here, you know.”

            Steve turned around quickly and rushed to her side, grasping her hand tightly in his as he crouched down beside the hospital bed. Her face was drawn, eyes still half-closed.

            “You’re awake,” he said.

            “Yes, well, you two were being quite loud.”

            Steve gave her a half-smile, some of the tension leaving his body, and murmured, “Sorry about that.”

            “Daniel,” Peggy said, looking past Steve to her former partner.  “Steve is right.  You shouldn’t wait.”  Steve felt a rush of vindication, but then his wife turned her attention back to him and said, “But you also do need a plan.”

            “I know,” Steve relented, his mind clearer now that the anger receded. 

            “Uh guys, we may have a problem,” Howard said. He held up the tracker, which had started beeping.  “They’re on the move.”

 

* * *

 

            Steve hadn’t been out in the field since he rescued Bucky, but he adapted quickly.  Maybe it was the super soldier serum or his nearly ten years of fighting, but it felt like second nature.   Sousa was tense beside him in the car, reading out the coordinates as Steve drove.  They were almost there.  Only a few more miles.

            “Did you see who shot her?”  Steve asked.

            “Yeah.  And don’t worry, if I see him you’ll know.”

            The harbor loomed ahead of them and Steve parked the car, killing the engine to not draw unwanted attention.  Steve looked over at Sousa and asked, “Are you ready?”

 

* * *

 

             “If I may say, the women in my life need to stop getting themselves shot,” Jarvis said, sitting in a chair beside Peggy’s bed. “My nerves can only take so much, Ms. Carter.”

            Peggy smiled a bit and said, “Yes, I will think of that the next time I get shot.”

            “Thank you.”

            They grew quiet and Jarvis said, “Both Chief Sousa and Mr. Rogers are more than capable of taking care of themselves.  They will be back.”

            “But what damage have I caused in the meantime?”

            “What do you mean?”

            Peggy shifted, wincing when her stitches pulled uncomfortably.  “Steve didn’t want this life anymore.  He’s a teacher now.  Did you know that?”

            Jarvis nodded.  “I did hear that.”

            “He loves it,” Peggy said wistfully. “And he’s so good at it.  I’ve met him there a few times after school, and you should see him with the kids.  They look up to him.”

            “He will be back with them soon.”

            The door opened and Sousa walked in, Peggy’s face going white as she asked, “Where is Steve?”

            Before Sousa could answer, Steve walked in, his left eye swollen and already bruising.  She wondered how he got in without a doctor stopping him.  She tried to sit up, but her stitches screamed in protest.  Sinking back into the pillow, she asked, “Who did that to you?”

            “The same person who did that,” Daniel said, gesturing toward her gunshot wound.

            “We were able to get the gas and Howard said he can neutralize it,” Steve said, crouching next to her.  “We did it, Peg.”


	9. The One Where Peggy Hates Steve's Driving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been posting more on Tumblr and decided to post them here, too. There will be an update a day!

“Steve.  How old are you again?”

           He looked over at her in confusion, wondering why his wife suddenly was inquiring into his age, and answered, “Thirty two. You know that.”

           Peggy nodded slowly.  “Yes, of course.  So, then why exactly are you driving like an old woman?”

           “I am not driving like an old woman,” Steve returned defensively.

           A car passed them on the road, driven by a woman of a certain age with her hair in curlers, and Peggy said, “Well, you were just passed by an old woman.  I don’t even know what that makes you now.”

           “It makes me a law abiding citizen,” Steve said. “She just passed us in a no-pass-zone.” He pointed emphatically at the street. “See that solid line?  No-pass-zone.  You can’t pass someone in a no-pass-zone!”

           “Tell me, are you planning on us arriving before or after Truman is up for re-election?”

“Truman doesn’t run for re-election,” Steve answered automatically.  “Why are you in such a rush, anyway?”

“I’m not in a rush, I just prefer to not move at a glacial pace.” 

           “The rules of the road were made for a reason, Peg.”

           “To test our marriage?”

           Steve laughed.  “Fine, if you’re so unhappy with my driving you can drive on the way home.”

           Peggy smiled contently.  “I like the sound of that.”

           An hour later, they screeched down the road with Peggy at the wheel, a plume of dust in their wake.  Steve grasped the armrest tightly and said, “We should take the subway from now on.”


	10. The One Where Steve Meets Dottie Underwood

When Peggy left the SSR office, stopping at the local grocer to pick up some provisions for dinner, she never imagined walking into her house to find her husband pleasantly chatting with an assassin. Peggy shut the door behind her and started toward the kitchen, having to pass through the living room on the way. As she walked, she absentmindedly called out, “Steve, I’m home! I hope you’re in the mood for grilled cheese, because-“

Peggy stopped short when she saw that Steve was not alone. Across from him sat Dottie Underwood, her grin wide and eyes deviously bright. 

“Your old roommate is here,” Steve said. “She was just in the area and stopped by to say hi.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Peggy reached down and pulled her pistol from her thigh holster, leveling it toward the Russian assassin.

“Whoah, whoah, what’s going on here?” Steve asked, quickly standing and looking between his wife and the woman she drew a gun on. He was even more surprised to see that the woman on the other end of Peggy’s gun seemed entirely unconcerned by the entire situation. She continued to smile congenially, her demeanor perhaps even slightly peppier.

“I’d love a grilled cheese, Peg,” Dottie answered brightly, undeterred by the pistol leveled at her head. “You have enough in that bag for three?”

“What are you doing here?” Peggy demanded.

“Your husband is very nice, by the way,” Dottie continued. “We had a nice little chat before you got here. It’s funny, I must have missed my invitation to the wedding.”

“I will only ask one more time,” Peggy returned slowly. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you’re no fun.”

“Dot-“

“But fine, we’ll do it your way. I need protection,” Dottie said. “I want the SSR to give it to me.”

“You know that will never happen,” Peggy said immediately. “You’re a fugitive of the state.”

“That’s just semantics,” Dottie said dismissively.

“Let me be more specific then. You tried to gas all of New York. You tried to kill Howard. You tried to kill me. Repeatedly.”

Dottie smirked. “Such fun memories. But, that’s all in the past. I’m a changed woman.”

“The passtimes of a changed woman typically do not require SSR protection.”

“I helped you out when you needed me,” Dottie said. “The least you can do is repay the favor.”

“You didn’t help me. I broke you out of prison and you turned on me.”

“Hold on, you broke her out of prison?” Steve asked.

Dottie looked over at him and said, “Can you try to not interrupt? The adults are talking.”

“I’m sorry, Dottie, but I can’t help you.” Peggy said firmly.

Dottie held Peggy’s gaze for a moment before she sighed and said, “I expected more from you, Peggy.”

Dottie quickly grabbed a small glass box from the end table next to her and flung it at Peggy while she launched herself from the seat and toward Steve, her leg sweeping out and connecting behind Steve’s knees. Dottie pulled a knife from beneath her dress and made quick maneuvers to overpower Steve and press the blade to his windpipe. To her surprise, though, he met her blows and disarmed her, elbow connecting with her ribs before he spun her into a chokehold.

Dottie breathed heavily, hands grasping at his arm, and she said, “I may have underestimated your husband, Peggy.”

“On second thought, the SSR may be interested in providing protection,” Peggy said, walking toward Dottie with her gun still drawn. “I think you’re familiar with the accommodations.”

After a few calls, SSR agents picked up Dottie Underwood and returned her to her rightful spot in a cozy prison cell. As Peggy set to making dinner, Steve poured them each glasses of wine and asked, “Any other assassins from your past that I should be aware of?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, taking the glass from him. “But if I think of any, I’ll let you know.”

He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “There’s still something that’s bothering me, though.”

“You couldn’t have known about her,” Peggy said. “Besides, she didn’t actually lie to you. Technically, we did live together.”

“No, I know. I just wish I didn’t serve her the good tea.”


	11. The One Where Steve Gives Peggy A Taste of the Future

“Wait, let me hear that again.  It’s toast.  With avocado sliced on top?”

Steve nodded, and then added, “Sometimes it’s mashed.  It really depends on what goes on top.”

“What sorts of things could possibly go on top?”

“A lot of things.  Hard boiled eggs.  Arugula.  I had one with this cheese thing that was pretty good.”

“And this is what everyone is eating in the future?”

“It’s a pretty big deal.  There were even articles coming out about how young people weren’t going to be able to afford houses because they spent all their money on avocados.”

Peggy’s eyes widened.  “How expensive could they be?”

“It depends on whether they are domestic or organic,” Steve answered reasonably, as if it were a perfectly logical explanation.  Peggy rarely encountered avocados in Brooklyn, much less different versions.  Frankly, the entire getup sounded a bit preposterous.  

“Did you spend all your savings on avocados?” she asked.

Steve laughed.  “No, I did not.“

“Well, that’s a relief.  So, avocado toast,” Peggy said slowly, as if trying the words on for size.  She was quiet for a long moment, eyebrows furrowed and teeth working aimlessly on the inside of her cheek, until she decidedly finished with, “I still don’t get it.”

One week later, after going to nearly every grocery store in Brooklyn, Steve got his hands on a relatively ripe avocado and the next morning, he made himself and Peggy avocado toast.  He went simple for the first try, a delicately sliced avocado laid out on a piece of freshly toasted whole grain bread with a dash of salt and lemon juice.

Peggy took a decisive bite, the bread making a satisfying _crunch_ when she bit down.  She chewed slowly, nodding in feigned appreciation as she swallowed.  Frankly, she didn’t care for it, but Steve looked at her so expectantly that she mustered up some kind words and forced the rest down.  

She paid for her kindness as Steve proceeded to make her different versions in the following days.  (And apparently buying out all the avocados in Brooklyn.)  Finally, after a particularly noxious concoction, Peggy said, “Darling, I love you, but if you make me one more avocado toast I will divorce you.”

“What?  I thought you liked them.”

Peggy wrinkled her nose and confessed,  “I hated them.  Every last one.”

"I can’t believe it.”

“And I can’t believe this is what everyone eats in the future,” Peggy returned.  “Do I die before it becomes a thing?”

Steve thought about it for a moment and then nodded.

“Thank God,” Peggy breathed out.

The next morning, their toast was topped again with butter and jam, and with that, their marriage was saved.

 

 

 


	12. The One Where Peggy Is a Sore Loser

Peggy and Steve sat cross-legged on the living room floor, the Scrabble board laid out in front of them and letter tiles neatly arranged on their individual racks. It was Peggy’s turn, and she analyzed her tiles closely before selecting the winners and spelling out “disarm”, the “m” landing on a triple letter score.

“That’s sixteen points,” Peggy said happily, crossing out her prior score. “Which puts me at…137 points.” 

Steve’s score hovered in the nineties, and he said, “Don’t start gloating yet. I still have a full rack of letters.”

“Would I ever gloat?” 

Steve snorted. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

He looked down at his letters, which were disappointingly vowel-focused. After a few drawn out minutes, Peggy asked, “Everything alright, darling?”

“Just trying to figure out the right move.”

“Hmm, of course,” she said with a slow nod. “Any chance this move will happen in the near future? Maybe before the year’s end?”

“I’m working on it,” he said off-handedly, eyes shifting between his rack and board, before he settled on a lackluster five point word. Peggy demurred from making any vocal response, but the sudden pursing of her lips was telling.

“Do not laugh,” he said knowingly, reaching into the fabric bag and pulling out more letter tiles.

“Of course not, darling.”

He smirked and placed his new tiles on the rack, arranging them as he always did, in alphabetical order. They continued to play, lobbing playful remarks as both scores climbed. By the end, they were nearly tied, Peggy only a few points above Steve. She played her last tiles, comprised almost entirely of vowels, for an impressive twelve point haul. Steve looked down at his abysmal collection of letters: F O Y.

He scoured the board, looking for any hidden opportunity for his mismatched letters. There had to be some lonely vowel that needed a consonant. He’d have to give up on the “O”, but he could live with that. And then he saw it. Between the words “affable” and “lawyer”. An opportunity so perfect that he almost thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Steve picked up his letters and secured his victory with one perfect word.

Froyo.

“Froyo?” Peggy asked in disbelief. “What the hell is froyo?”

“Frozen yogurt,” Steve answered easily. “But people call it froyo. It’s all the rage in the future.”

“That can’t be a real word.”

“It is actually,” Steve said, gaining excitement as he explained. “One of the guys in my support group was really interested in the words they added to the dictionary each year. And in 2017, they added the word froyo.”

Peggy blinked rapidly, seemingly at a loss of words as Steve added up his score and said, “So, that makes it 200 points for me and 195 for you.”

Losing was difficult enough for Peggy - they had actually banned Monopoly from their house the month prior after it caused too many fights - but losing Scrabble due to an idiotic word from the future was too much for her.

“You cannot use words from the future!“ she blurted out.

“What? Why not?”

“Because they don’t exist yet. Therefore, they are fake words. You cannot use fake words.”

“They’re not fake words,” Steve held firmly. “Words are words. Besides, I’ve taught you a lot of those ‘fake’ words.”

They argued for the next ten minutes until Peggy reluctantly accepted defeat. By the next month, Scrabble was banned along with Monopoly, and Peggy and Steve agreed to never speak of froyo again.

**Author's Note:**

> I was planning on writing scenes from their future. Let me know if you'd like to see!


End file.
